The Last Farewell
by Pasta and Sin
Summary: He knew it was close and he couldn't do anything about it. All he could do was whisper his last farewell to the wind in hopes that it would bring it to that special someone's ear; In hopes that she would hear.


The orange of the sky melted with the golden rays of the sun, and soon, it was tinged with a vibrant red. It blurred altogether, resembling her lively amber eyes. Ah yes, that's what made the sunset beautiful and breathtaking in the first place. It was beautiful because it reminded him of her. The way her eyes glinted with happiness, the way it reflected her forlornness. Her emotions were openly displayed in those beautiful orange, gold, and red. He found himself smiling at the thought of that. Beautiful, that's what she was.

Not long after, he focused his gaze on the giant burning orb in the sky. He softly shook his head. No, she wasn't just beautiful, she was the sun. The sun seemed very bright and beckoning to him. Just like her. Bright, happy, cheerful, and he found himself attracted to her. He always yearned for that smile that seemed to shine through the darkest of his days, he yearned for her presence which comforted him with such warmth. With that, he came up with a final conclusion. He decided that she was everything: The beauty, the sunset, the sun itself... She was _his_ everything. She was what made him whole.

To his dismay, the clouds gathered above, hiding the bright and cheerful rays of the sun. Or was it the smoke? He doesn't know. Maybe his eyes were simply bleary from the unshed tears. It was beginning to grow cold and Holy Roman Empire knew that it was close.

 _"When this war is over, I promise that I'll come and see you again."_

 _"Okay then... I'll miss you! I'll be waiting and I'll make lots of treats for when you get back. Try not to get sick or injured. I know we'll see each other again, I know we will, I know it!"_

 _"No matter how much time may have passed, you'll always be my most favourite in the whole world!"_

She was still probably waiting for him to get back home. Holy Rome's chest ached at the thought of that. What if she'd continue waiting? What will happen when she realises that he'll never return again? What will happen to her once he's... Gone? This hurt him more than the sword imbedded in his stomach.

Fate can be cruel sometimes and life was unfair. Once, they were separated, but soon, they found each other again. It was a short fleeting moment but that moment was the best he had. It gave him a purpose, it gave him someone to protect, and it was what killed him in the end. But this is a sacrifice he was willing to face if it meant her safety.

He laughed bitterly. But that laugh soon turned into unpleasant hacks and violent coughs. He brought a hand to his mouth, attempting to ease the vicious coughing fit, only to find blood- his own blood- staining his hand. He stiffened as tears begin to sting his eyes. "Are you still waiting for me there?"

It was continuing to grow colder and colder. Or was it just him? He couldn't feel his fingers anymore and his toes felt numb. But he could feel the cold or the lack of warmth, rather. It was unwelcoming and dull. It wasn't anything like she was. He missed her already.

"I'm sorry, I won't be able to keep my promise, mein Italien." He says, his voice breaking and shattering like his heart. It was painful, too painful for him. He endured so much for so many years and this measly sword was now about to end his suffering. "Es tut mir leid. I won't be coming home so you can now stop waiting."

He couldn't feel the hard and unforgiving ground beneath him anymore nor can he hear the dying cries of his people. It was so close now. Death was already knocking at the door.

"I hope you know that I love you... I've always had and I wish I said that more when we were together." His throat felt awfully dry and his vision blurred. "I w-wish I told you that everyday."

His chest was rising too fast, and his voice was a mere whisper now. Talking became difficult for Holy Rome. It hurt him, it burnt it lungs, and it was tiring but he went on. After all, it was the only thing he could do. Holy Roman Empire began to feel sleepy. His eyelids drooped but he fought to keep them open. "...Good bye, my love. I'll never for..." And finally, they closed.

Then, it flashed before him. He saw her clearly. She stood in front of him, holding the deck brush. He could never forget that unruly curl that stuck out, that soft sweet smile, and that warm voice that said, "I love you too, Holy Rome."

He knew it was just a dream. The last dream he'll ever have about Italy but he was happy. He was relieved. The pain was finally gone and he felt free. After a very long time, he felt what they called, 'Peace.'

Italy slowly held her hand out and Holy Roman Empire gladly took it. Death finally claimed him.

A last tear rolled down his cheek. It wasn't from pain or sadness. It was a tear from joy, a tear from a dream he'll never wake up from again.

 _I'll never forget you._


End file.
